


Kathmandu

by charlotteestailleurs



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fifi - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, dumbasses in love, kathmandu, sweet boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:42:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteestailleurs/pseuds/charlotteestailleurs
Summary: There was nothing very ‘minute par minute’ in the image Lucas had conjured up: them, married, fifty years old, traveling across the world, making a teenage dream come true now that they were far from being teenagers themselves. It was a promise that their secrets, their inside jokes, their daily words of love would last until at least that long. And once they would reach that age, Eliott cannot think of why they would not keep going…
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 9
Kudos: 74





	Kathmandu

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Katmandou](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22802239) by [charlotteestailleurs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteestailleurs/pseuds/charlotteestailleurs). 



> Ever since that clip, I couldn't get the Kathmandu line out of my head… I also missed seeing them on screen together. 
> 
> So here this fic. Again, if you spot some errors please let me know in the comments so that I can fix them (English is not my first language and I'm always seeking to improve).

When we’ll be fifty, married, and we’ll go to Kathmandu. 

Lucas says it first; Eliott refuses to pretend he didn’t feel his heart jump in his chest and a waterfall of butterflies pour down on his stomach. He puts his hands around his neck, ready to kiss him again. He loves that boy like he has never loved anybody before, and the simple evocation of such a now distant future seems so grand and true; they will grow old together, mushy and in love like the first day, and they will go on a trip to Kathmandu.

Eliott had shared the idea with him several months before, during a conversation. Lucas, far from finding the idea ridiculous or over-the-top, had stroked his right cheek with a gentle hand, and had whispered: Kathmandu. Ever since that moment the word kept coming up in their conversations, as an amusing constant in the beginning, and had afterwards turned into something else. Kathmandu slowly morphed into a promise, a symbol for a future they had each sworn to reach. There was nothing very ‘minute par minute’ in the image Lucas had conjured up: them, married, fifty years old, traveling across the world, making a teenage dreams come true now that they were far from being teenagers themselves. It was a promise that their secrets, their inside jokes, their daily words of love would last at least that long. And once they would reach that age, Eliott cannot think of why they would not keep going…

Since Lucas has said it, Kathmandu refuses to leave Eliott’s mind. The words whirl in his head as he pulls the van out of the ring road into the motorway. He smiles as his stomach fills with fluttering countless butterfly wings again, rising from the bottom of his guts all the way up to his throat. He keeps stealing quick looks at Lucas, asleep against the window of the passenger seat. It could have surprised others that these kinds of declarations would come from him, but Eliott was not surprised. Lucas loves with a fierce stuborness; now that he was sure Eliott would not be going anywhere, he had no qualms about showing it, projecting in time, into eternity.

He remembered last year and their quarrel around Idriss, the gut-wrenching fear in Lucas’ eyes, once anger had passed, his nearly brutal insistence, followed by his slow realisation of what he was doing. Lucas had understood so much during those few weeks, and had suddenly grown up in his regard to heir relationship – as if he had pulled himself out of his abandoned child’s mindset and had received a mental whiplash. They had dealt with it calmly, like adults. Lucas showcased a determination that almost scared Eliott. He had been ready for Eliott to leave, had nearly convinced himself to accept it; and Eliott had held him for hours as they both wept in silence, completely still. Never again, they had sworn to one another, they would let sourness grow so large between them. Never again. And now Katmandou, and the steady certitude they would have the necessary strength and love to live together until they day they died, make the whole incident look like mindless bickering. 

They reach Basile’s grandpa’s farm in the late afternoon. Daylight is going down and the countryside shimmers with golden sunlight. A light mist rises from the vegetation and the nearby fields. Basile readily welcomes his grandpa, a tall man with a wrinkled face, and they all learn at the same time the condition for their countryside holiday. Lucas punctuates the lecture he gives to Basile while they unload their bags and settle in their rooms with “are you fucking serious dude? You have to be fucking kidding me, right?”. Eliott laughs, the others don’t know whether they should be scandalised or amused by the scene. 

Later, he finds a bunny, a big, fat, spotted furred one. He takes the animal out of his hutch, to hold him againt his chest. He decides to name him Fifi. The bunny’s body is soft underneath his fingers, his heart thrumming – he barely notices the thing has his eyes wide open with unease, visibly not used to be handled that way. He convinces Lucas to adopt him, to bring him back to Paris, to their place. Dinner breaks all his hopes in that regard.  
They go to bed exhausted, sliding into clean sheets. Eliott rests his head on Lucas’ shoulder, who is busy tracing iddle lines underneath his shirt.

Kathmandu.

“Hmm? Says Lucas.”

“What?”

“What’d you say?”

They keep their voices low, even though they’re lucky enough to have heir own room.

“Kathmandu, repeats Eliott.”

Lucas smiles, and turns to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I was thinking about it, that’s all...”

“Do you do that often?”

“All the time.”

Lucas, in the darkness, who has heard countless ardent declarations from Eliott, Lucas, who has no shame, who flirts in public without a care in the world, Lucas blushes. A chuckle bubbles out of Eliott’s lips, and Lucas tries to quiet him with a hand on his mouth, which he bites, purely out of reflex.

“Putain, ew! Shut up Eliott, they guys are going to kill us if we wake them up.”

Eliott runs his fingers along his ribs, and it’s Lucas’ turn to stifle a laugh. 

“Stop, stop, he hushes, we’re going to wake everyone up. Ah, you know I’m ticklish!”

He tries to escape Eliott’s hands, wiggles like a worm, and finally attacks. Eliott loses the fight within fifteen seconds: he is way more ticklish than Lucas.

They remain pressed up against each other, their breaths heavy, Lucas with Eliott’s wrists in a grip to keep him from going back at it. They stare at each other, as best as they can in the dark, and Lucas’ eyes fall to his lips. If they were home, things would have escalated from there, onto more hurried and needy grounds. Eliott frees his hands now loosely held, and brushes against Lucas chest with his fingertips on a slow downwards path, without detaching his gaze from Lucas’ face. Right before he reaches the waistband of his pants, a hand stops him.

“No, Eliott, not here! We’re at Basile’s grandpa’s, for fuck’s sake!”

Eliott pouts, Lucas rolls his eyes, then lets out a frustrated groan. He covers his face with his hand and peeks at Eliott through his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, he breathes out. Fuck off.”

Eliott lets out a chuckle, a laughing breath into his soulder and drops a kiss there. He feels his warm skin through his shirt and would give anything to access what’s underneath the fabric. They patiently wait for their desire to come down and for their hearts to settle. 

Lucas gives in and pulls Eliott against him, brings his body above him and latches onto his lips. Eliott slumps down on him. 

“Kathmandu, he says in a whisper.”

Eliott smiles against his cheek, drops kisses on the line of his jaw until Lucas claims back his lips. They makes a conscious effort to not let their hands wander too far down to keep things under control.

“We’ll actually go one day, right? Lucas asks.”

“Yeah, answers Eliott from the curve of his neck.”

He kisses the spot behind his ear.

“When we’ll both be old, he continues. When we will have loved each other for thirty years. When we’ll have experienced tons of stuff. When we’ll be able to make love, in our van, far, far away from people’s grandpas.”

Lucas slides his arms around him, brings him ever closer. They stop moving when they’re finally touching from head to toes, their legs intertwined, sweating a little from the proximity. Eliott understands, understands very well, that need for a living body, belonging to someone he loves, to be pressed up against his as exhaustion starts to truly settle in. It’s an innocent embrace, a body-scaled I love you aiming at filling the atom-wide gap that still separate them. 

“What time do we have to get up again?”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

Silence settles again, only disturbed by the sound of their breaths. From the outside, the only noises that filter through are the occasional animal screech and the murmur of the trees in the breeze. 

“My love? Lucas whispers, after an eternity of quiet.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m literally boiling here.”

They part, with a pinch of regret, and sleepily shuffle around until they find a satisfying position.

They bitterly regret not going to sleep immediately after going to bed when Basile wakes them up the next morning, way too eager for the time of the day.


End file.
